


Indulgence Comes in Many Forms

by seven_ofmine



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotions, F/F, Fluff, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 23:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15472695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seven_ofmine/pseuds/seven_ofmine
Summary: After 'Body and Soul', Seven spends time socializing and learning about the nature of emotion. She may or may not uncover some feelings for a certain Captain...!





	1. Dinner with the Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! My name is Olivia, and here's my first ao3 piece! Please give a read and a comment. I promise it'll end with some good ol' J7.
> 
> Thanks! :D

“To shared experiences…”

“Hear, hear,” the Doctor smiled thoughtfully.

Seven of Nine sipped at her wine, wondering whether her dinner plans would land her a night in Sickbay. Their day spent on the Lokirrim Patrol ship was bizzare, to say the least: Seven watched the Doctor navigate her Borg-enhanced sensations as they improvised their way back to Voyager.  “The wine smells divine, Seven.”

“Allow me to describe it for you...” She spoke into her glass, going in for a second sip.

The two shared a cheerful dinner, discussing the history of their meal and exploring the different smells and tastes. Their years of friendship were meaningful to them both. Despite Seven knowing of the Doctor’s former crush on her, she had allowed the infatuation to wear itself out. They had become visibly relaxed in their seats.

“Curious,” wondered Seven. “My later sips of the d’Yquem taste sweeter than the first. Perhaps my nanoprobes are adjusting to my synthehol intake.” She quirked a smile at the idea of understanding humanity’s love for spirits.

“Are you feeling  _ impaired _ at all?”

“In the case of a casual setting, I find the sensation … admirable. My mind is responding to indulgence with less animosity.”

“You know, Seven, indulgence and recreation are just as important to a healthy lifestyle as nutrition and exercise. In  _ my  _ free time, rehearsing a Puccini aria provides me with an outlet for emotional release." Seven exhaled a soft chuckle at his tendency to luxuriate on his emotions, but encouraged him nonetheless.

“Is the meal triggering an emotional response in you, Doctor?”

“Why of course! Sitting down and drawing my focus away from daily stress helps to bring the events of the day into perspective. Here we are, friends taking the time to enjoy each other’s company; This is what makes life worth living!”

“If your goal in life is avoiding the negative influence of stress, do you consider Voyager a worthy placement?”

“Working as the EMH provides me with more opportunities to expand my program’s expertise - my primary path. The effects of stress are made manageable with the inclusion of recreation, which can guide us through the exploration of personal emotion.” 

“I gather that emotional and cultural indulgence go hand in hand,” Seven responded.

“In a way, yes. I find that the many flavours of this wine you’ve described allow me to interpret my stresses through a new lens. I perceive that the sweetness of the bordeaux contrasts with the savory preparation of the foie gras, while the truffles provide an earthy balance to the meal. Allowing ourselves this unique experience expands our interests, all the while contributing to mental health! Isn’t it marvellous, Seven?”

“‘Mental Health’? What does emotional compartmentalizing have to do with the efficiency of my cortical node?"

“Emotional processing is a key element in maintaining mental health. As we establish a rapport with our environment, loved ones and co-workers, we may fall victim to anxiety and uncertainty. 'Do I belong here?' 'Can I trust them?' 'Does she feel the same way?'” The last one felt characteristically dramatic of The Doctor to Seven, though she found herself empathizing with the emotions. Becoming re-integrated with humanity has been a difficult and confusing journey; interpersonal communication, while valued on Voyager, is considered inefficient to the Borg. Her being ‘out of practice’ was putting it mildly. 

The Doctor continued: "Emotional processing can help us better understand our inner feelings, so that we may better express them outwardly. People rely on each other to exchange ideas for self-fulfillment, whether those ideas come from a therapist, a friend, or an artist whose art reflects their inner struggle.”

“Hence the use of art for catharsis?”

“Precisely! The effective assessment of emotion frees you to explore your humanity, as we are exploring the Delta Quadrant. Funnily enough, it may be the only adventure longer than Voyager’s trek home,” the Doctor professed with a grin.

Seven quirked another smile at the fitting comparison. 

“To attend to our emotional needs is to take care of our brain, which contributes to confidence and self efficacy.”

“I have been told that I am over-confident and brash in a work setting.”

“That may be true when applying an honed skill set, not unlike many others on this ship. However, I find you to be quite attentive and charming, Seven.”

“I do not perceive over-confidence of myself in terms of my individuality, though I suppose I find emotional confidence to be an attractive quality in potential partners.”

”Seven, have you been thinking of romance lately?” The Doctor’s eyes lit up, seemingly interested in the love life of his pupil and friend.

“I had hoped to pursue a romantic relationship with Axum of Unimatrix Zero, but its destruction eliminated that possibility.” She spoke soberly of the event. “Said realization remains a ‘sore spot’ for me, though I have slowly adapted to its emotional weight.”

“A wonderful progression, Seven! You have found a balance of perspective, and all by yourself.”

“I had the assistance of Captain Janeway, meanwhile I could provide her comfort in the de-assimilation process. Perhaps next time I will read a book of hers, or pay a visit to Mr. da Vinci instead.”

Seven busied herself with her last sip of wine. “The final sip is the sweetest of all, with the toasted flavours of an ancient french crème brûlée. Have you enjoyed the aromas of our meal?” Seven hoped the Doctor was impressed with her use of social formalities as a nod to the origins of their friendship.

“They have been most pleasant! So much so that Mr. Neelix must be distraught at his lack of invitation.” Seven imagined a dramatized image of the colourful Talaxian replicating his own dish out of spite.

“How does Mr. Neelix’s role as ‘Morale Officer’ of Voyager contribute to the ‘mental health’ of the crew? The name suggests his efforts include the monitoring of the collective emotional well-being.”

“While sometimes interruptive, his personable nature and tact for organizing social events has benefited this crew through a tumultuous 30,000 light-years. His gatherings inspire a sense of community on this ship that most people enjoy to some degree.”

“He does occasionally inquire upon my emotional state beyond the customary questioning of how my day is progressing,” she replied thoughtfully. “Does that encourage others to do the same?”

“Often it does. Customary as it may be, the intention is the same. By someone asking about your emotions, they are trying to form a bond with you, much like myself or Mr. Neelix...” He paused as if to question whether to continue. “... or the Captain.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and Seven registered his eyes study her reaction. As she lowered her gaze, her cortical node captured the increase in heart rate and blood pressure, as well as the tightening of her temporalis and masseter muscles in the sides of her face. 

“Seven,” he began gently. “While inhabiting your body gave me the opportunity to ‘be you’, I couldn’t help but notice your subconscious reaction to Captain Janeway. How has your relationship with her changed lately?” It took Seven a conscious effort not to consider the Doctor’s question an invasion of her privacy. Instead of storming away, she paused and responded thoughtfully as the Doctor nodded along.

  
“Since disabling my modified processing sub-unit on Stardate 53329, she and I have had the opportunity to continue our conversation regarding our _bond_ , as she put it. We occasionally consume breakfast together, engage in matches of Velocity and Hoverball on the holodeck, and have spent more time discussing philosophical ideas in relation to my humanitarian development.” 

“And how did you feel when we contacted Voyager from the Patrol Ship?”

“Though my cortical node monitored an increase in cortisol and blood pressure, I felt self-assured and confident while contacting Captain Janeway. As I watched the screen, my only thought was of returning to Voyager and to my time spent with her.” 

The Doctor studied her face again. This time, she fought the urge to look away.

“It sounds as though there might be something else going on,” he remarked. Seven recognized the shifting of his eyes as he considered how to continue. “If I had your carbon makeup and physique, I might act upon those feelings.” 

“How so? By spending more time with her? I do not know what your words imply, Doctor.” Her commanding tone could not hide the slight tremor in her voice. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Has the Captain expressed a desire to spend more of her recreational time in my presence?”

He sighed and continued his explanation with a slight smile on his face.

“Captain Janeway hasn’t confessed anything of the sort. However, anyone on this ship could tell you she holds you in her proverbial heart of hearts.  _ I  _ could tell from the way she responded to our hail from the Lokirrim Ship. Her face lit up at the sight of you, especially with your, well,  _ my _ , beautiful hair.” He stroked the top of his head, imagining the brief period of time when Seven’s hair felt like his own. 

“I feel that beauty is relevant where the Captain is concerned,” Seven confessed. “It was she who suggested I apply myself in the field of romantic relationships on Stardate 52647. I had concluded that there were no potential mates onboard Voyager, though I now recognize the value of …  _ companionship _ in a long-term relationship, rather than the ability to procreate.” The Doctor nodded in acknowledgment. Seven internally hoped that he would modify his lesson plan accordingly, either for herself for his next student of humanity. 

“I had no idea you felt that way, Seven! If you are recognizing the desire for a romantic pursuit, why not take the opportunity to explore it? You may debate the necessity of the arts and of aesthetics, but the human experience includes lending your feelings the potential to blossom. Captain Janeway could learn a thing or two on the subject as well…”

“Wouldn’t the Captain reject my request for a romantic encounter on account of Starfleet propriety?”

“There are no regulations against a Captain becoming involved with a senior officer. In my opinion, affairs of the heart have no place in government-issues directives, especially when a ship has been stranded as long as we have.”

Seven was unsure as to how that last statement made her feel. Starfleet Regulation may not restrict the notion, but she still required the approval of her Captain; she couldn’t argue her way around it. 'Damn that woman’s sense of morality,' she thought. She stood and neatly collected their dishes and tucked the half-empty bottle under her arm.

“Thank you Doctor. You continue to demonstrate your aptitude for encouragement and thoughtful conversation. I feel I have learned a new skill set in self-management that will be beneficial to my ‘mental health’.” The term still felt foreign, but if it was as relevant as the Doctor insisted, she knew she could adapt. “As for your advice, I will consider your words when  _ processing _ my emotions.” 

She adored using phrases back to others; her ability to pick up on linguistic nuances filled her with pride. ‘I enjoy being charming,’ she thought. ‘I enjoy the reactions of others.’ Her mind flooded with memories of her friends, specifically Captain Janeway, appreciating her adapted wit. 

The Doctor interrupted, “would you like me to send those dishes through this replicator?”

“I wish to walk the three decks to the Mess Hall. It will give me the opportunity to  _ reflect. _ ” She smirked again, memorising the feeling. “Good night.” 

Seven exited Sickbay and strode towards the nearest turbolift. She entered, declaring “Deck Two”. The computer chimed accordingly.


	2. Indulgence, Intrigue and Excitement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven finds herself getting advice from two Senior Officers, who nudge her in the direction she hasn't allowed herself to explore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two! Please leave a comment, I love hearing what people have to say. I usually watch Voyager with my mom, and I'm not quite ready to read it to her yet! XD
> 
> Olivia

The mess hall was dark save for the kitchen lights, which dimly lit the room. Seven’s walk had a subtle, uncharacteristic bounce to it that even she didn’t notice. She followed the lights to where an apron-clad Neelix stood at the stovetop. Seven’s eyes were scanning the busy pattern when her olfactory receptors brought her to focus on the pot on the stove. The smell of chocolate wafted from Neelix’s direction; she had observed that chocolate was very popular among the crew. She placed her tray of dishes on the large countertop, followed by the bottle tucked under her arm.

“Well, hi there, Seven! How can I help you this lovely evening?”

“I have come to return these dishes to you,” she responded. In an effort to continue her night of socializing, she continued. “What are you heating?”

“Naomi and I are having some hot chocolate before bed! Would you care for a glass?” Seven inhaled again and considered the offer. 

“Yes, please.”

Neelix placed three replicated mugs on the counter, filling one for Seven. 

“How did the Captain like the foie gras,” Neelix asked. He turned down the stovetop and brought the mug with him through the kitchen doors. Seven gingerly took it, noting the curls of chocolate-scented steam which rose from the top.

“I was not consuming food with her, Mr. Neelix. The Doctor and I were exploring  _ indulgent _ foods together. As he is unable to ingest nutrition supplements, I described the tastes and sensations for him.”

“Ah, I see. A meal certainly is a great thing to share!”

“Indeed,” Seven responded half-heartedly. She became lost in her imagined self, with favourite foods which balanced in preferential taste and nutritional value. She pictured herself sharing a formal meal with Captain Janeway, wondering what her favourite foods might be. She blinked back to her conversation.

“Mr. Neelix,” she began formally, “may we  _ sit  _ while I ask you questions? The Doctor has suggested I seek guidance while processing feelings to aid me in... sustaining optimal mental health.” Seven’s requests often seemed unprecedented, but so long as her company didn’t particularly mind, neither did she. She used to believe segues were time-consuming and irrelevant, back when anything displeasing could be accredited as such. She inwardly hoped the effort would go unnoticed.

“Uh… Sure, Seven,” Neelix replied brightly, if a little stunned. Seven pulled out a chair from a nearby table and sat awkwardly, gripping an armrest on her way down. Though somewhat uncomfortable, her time sitting with the Doctor allowed her to ease into the feeling.

“How’s it taste?” Neelix sat nearby and nodded at the mug, now gripped tightly by the handle. Seven brought her lips to the rim, immediately recalling an image of Janeway doing the same with a cup of coffee. The semi-sweet chocolate buzzed around in her mouth and formed a noticeable twitch of a smile on her face; Neelix grinned back at her in response. ‘Perhaps this silent exchange is the most indulgent conversation yet,’ Seven thought to herself. “Now what was it you want to ask me, Seven?” 

She proceeded without trepidation: “How does an individual recognize the desire for a romantic relationship?”  

“Uh… I think of when you want to share your most intimate feelings with someone, or maybe if you feel a physical impulse to reach out and touch a specific person. Sometimes a friendship can lead to romance, if the relationship feels like it could be ‘something more’.

“What is the  _ criteria  _ for this ‘something more’?”

“That’s up to you, Seven! I know when I have someone on my mind, I can remember our interactions, and I hold her words very close to my heart. Some get this urge to spend all their time with said person, where others feel the need to run in the other direction. What a funny thing, love is...” Neelix closed his eyes and brought his hands together at his chest affectionately. Seven looked away from his display, but considered his words. 

“My cortical node allows me to recall any memory instantaneously, as well as monitor the dependent physiological outcomes. How do I distinguish memory from affection?”

“I’ll ask you this - close your eyes…” Seven quirked her ocular implant at his suggestion and complied. “Think of a time when you felt loved.”

“Explain,” Seven snapped her eyes open in confusion. She knew her conversational phrasing needed work, but she recognized signs of anticipation; 'Is my cortical node over-working itself at this particular moment,' she thought to herself.

“That’s a little more complicated, Seven. I don't think even the most brilliant hivemind could calculate the intricacies of affection.” Neelix gave another gooey smile. Seven wanted to roll her eyes at the notion of something being incalculable, but resisted the urge on account of the little man’s sentimentality. “Think of a time when you were excited, intrigued and relaxed all at the same time.”

“Is fondness for a certain memory love, Neelix?” She busied herself with a larger sip of her hot chocolate.

“Perhaps, but there’s more to it than that. Is there something you’re wanting to hear?” 

Seven straightened in her seat. “Why did you presume I spent my dinnertime in the presence of the Captain?” Her thoughts raced as she waited for Neelix to respond. 

“Well, I’m not sure, really. I know she cares for you a great deal…” Seven took advantage of his pause to bring him to the point.

“Do not speculate, Mr. Neelix. What else have you  _ observed _ regarding my relationship with the Captain?” 

“I - I know she holds you in high esteem, and you two sure have a unique dynamic on this ship.” Seven’s cortical node monitored an increase of heart rate in Neelix, which she attributed to the pace and intensity of this conversation. She relaxed, allowing Neelix to do the same. “I  _ can _ tell you that watching you two grow closer over breakfasts here in the Mess Hall warms my heart.”

“Have you heard any other theories regarding her feelings for me?” Seven’s tone lowered as she felt herself growing impatient. She recognized her intrigue become desperation. Suddenly, the Mess Hall doors hissed open.

“I’ve got a theory…” B'Elanna Torres’ voice echoed from the far end of the hall as she walked confidently into the light. “Forgive me for eavesdropping, but I’ve also got an idea for you to try out, Seven.”

“What are you implying, Lieutenant Torres?” Seven stood to meet her eyes. 

“I think you and she should have a little talk about your  _ feelings _ . Your incessant need to know if she’s got feelings for you is getting on my nerves.” Her small smirk contrasted the harsh words. 

“Lieutenant, have I angered you? I assure you my only intentions are to resolve my current emotional conflict.” B’Elanna sighed and shook her head, and Seven noticed a genuine smile on the engineer’s features. Seven clasped behind her back. 

“You have … _enlightening_ features, Lieutenant. I find them aesthetically pleasing.”

B’Elanna quirked an eyebrow at Seven’s unusual statement and asked, “since when do you recognize aesthetics, Borg?” She placed her hands on her hips characteristically. 

“I am attempting to integrate non-essential conversation into our evening for the purpose of net positivity. Your aggression may be a predominant feature, however I find the rare occasion in which you do smile to be … fulfilling.”

“That’s one way to give a compliment - hot chocolate just might be your banana pancakes.” She grinned at Neelix in the low lighting. “Hey, do  _ you _ know the Captain’s favourite food?” 

“I wish I could tell you! When she’s not fuelling herself on coffee, I often serve her Earth-based meals. For an explorer, she sure likes her comfort foods,” he chuckled. 

“Neelix, pour Janeway a cup of hot chocolate as well. It’ll give  _ this _ one an in.” B'Elanna grinned again in Neelix’s direction, hoping he was on the same page.

He looked back at the stovetop, then at Seven, encouragingly. In the lull of conversation, Seven came to the realization that she could, in fact, visit with the Captain tonight. They could sit down in her quarters, discuss ideas, relax in each others’ presence. Seven could initiate contact for the sake of  _ indulgence _ , as simply and effectively as she had with the Doctor. For multiple years she had visited the Captain’s quarters on the pretence of wanting to dissect the dilemmas of diplomacy and humanity; she hoped that she could progress their relationship beyond that point, if it hadn’t already.

“My intrigue of a casual interaction with her is affecting my adrenal glands, and is creating a fluttering sensation in my core.” 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were excited,” Neelix suggested. B’Elanna dipped her chin with a knowing smile and folded her arms across her chest. 

“Based on previous encounters, I suspect a casual, off-duty interaction with Captain Janeway would be enjoyable. I am experiencing many positive emotions at the idea." ‘All at the same time,’ she repeated under her breath. Her eyes widened with realization and excitement.

“Thank you for the lovely idea,” Seven finished. She was unaccustomed to the phrase, but found it alarmingly relevant. As B'Elanna and Neelix shared a small smile, Seven began to comprehend their motives.

Neelix stood and grabbed the tray of dishes on the the counter on his way to the kitchen. He spoke less delicately: “Can I get you anything else, Seven?”

“Yes. I propose that you allow me access to the kitchen and supervise my learning of meal preparation and execution, as it could prove to be not only useful to the crew, but to my recreational fulfillment. I also request you keep the contents of this bottle cool, as I predict I will be sharing it again.” As she nodded to the wine on the countertop, Neelix poured a second mug of hot chocolate and shot a cheery grin at her through the kitchen window. He marched back through the doorway and replied excitedly.

“I would love that, Seven! I could show you...”

“Let her go, Neelix. She’s got places to be,” B’Elanna interrupted calmly.

Neelix sighed and handed Seven the second mug. “Thank you both for an … enjoyable conversation.” Seven made her way towards the exit past B'Elanna. 

“Go get it, Borg,” she muttered cheekily as Seven approached. Seven's strides were confident, though she took care with the cups in each hand. She reminded herself Neelix's descriptions of romantic interest, and felt somewhat encouraged. 'If anything,' she thought flatly, 'I will be expanding my sociable tolerance by meeting with Captain Janeway.' She completed one emotional cross-examination after another on her way back to the turbolift, and, by the time she focused on her movement, she was standing in front of the door to the Captain's Quarters.


	3. More Favourable than a Holodeck Program

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every conversation of Seven's night involved her, and eventually, she found herself outside her door. Will Janeway have the answers to the questions Seven's just learning to ask?

The door chime of the Captain’s Quarters was faint from the outside; fainter still was the voice inside replying “come in”. The doors hissed open deafeningly, leaving Seven to observe the room before stepping in. Captain Janeway was sat upright on the far end of her long couch. With a book outstretched in her right hand, her left splayed along the top cushions, reinforcing her comfortable, yet dominant form. Seven stepped in and lowered her eyes from the Captain’s profile to her grey-blue t-shirt, admiring the familiar collar. Her right hand twitched at thought of running her fingertips along the cotton material, starting near those four hidden pips. Had she not been carrying a mug in each hand, she might have tried it for herself for comparison.

Janeway kept her eyes on her book over the arm of the couch. She brought her fingers to her lips before caressing the open page and folding its corner. She tore her eyes away and set the book on the windowsill behind her. Seven stood in the middle of the room for her Captain’s eyes with bated breath. Watching mindfully, and wondered. ‘Captain Janeway’s ministrations do not require emotional processing, though a subconscious reaction such as this may,’ she thought, smirking at the idea of storing this memory near that of Voyager’s tactical data.

“What’s got you smiling?”

Her train of thought screeched to a halt when she saw Janeway’s eyes locked with her own, her breath hitching quietly.

Janeway shot an eyebrow at the drinks in Seven’s hands and said boisterously: “Well _this_ is a new one. I can’t remember the last time someone brought a drink right to my quarters.” She rose and passed the short, glass coffee table to meet Seven.

“There is zero syntheholic content in this _drink,_ Captain.” She surprised herself with the formality in her voice as he handed off one mug and nodded at the soft ‘thank you’ from Janeway.

“Neelix insisted I try his evening beverage when I entered the Mess Hall.”

“I appreciate your thinking of me, Seven. I haven’t had hot chocolate in a long time.” She spoke over her shoulder as she made her way back to the couch. Before sitting, she motioned for Seven to join her. “If you’d care to stay, I’d love the company. I’ll even postpone your mission report - perks of being the Captain, I guess.”

“I will,” Seven replied. She quirked her ocular implant again at the night’s outcome, it’s favourable nature resembling the programming of a holodeck simulation. ‘This is what The Doctor might call ‘serendipitous’,’ she thought, stepping towards the seat to her left.

“So, is it time for another late-night philosophy talk?”

Seven began, somewhat tentatively: “Captain, I had hoped to spend some recreational time in your presence, perhaps discussing the events of our days as equals. Though I suspect any conversation of ours could involve the exchange of...” Janeway raised a hand, which she understood to mean no more explanations were needed.

“I would love that, and please call me Kathryn, or whatever makes you most comfortable.” She motioned to the chair across from her, saying “come and sit, dear”. One side of Janeway’s smile yanked upwards — the tenderness in her eyes sending Seven’s stomach lurching forward. She lowered her gaze to her mug, inhaling softly as she sunk into the seat.

“Why don’t you give me the informal version of your away mission… How the hell did The Doctor end up in your body?”

Seven described the sensations of assimilating The Doctor’s consciousness. Janeway listened attentively, laughing along with the ludicrousness of being fed multiple desserts in one sitting.

“Leave it to The Doctor to overindulge when given the chance. I’m surprised he didn’t run away to start his own one-person-show!”

“He _did_ suggest I fail to indulge my organic physique in recreational activities.” Janeway's expression shifted to her mug and took one long sip. “Banter aside, he and I had the opportunity to share a meal this evening in which I described the tastes of a foie gras dish with truffles and a white bordeaux pairing.”

Janeway gave a small chuckle at this. “What a clever idea,” she muttered with a grin. She rested her fingers on her lips again, which Seven recognized as her ‘thinking face’. Seven’s attention diverted to those lips as she continued. “I can’t imagine why I didn’t think of that arrangement for him. Did you like it?” Seven felt Janeway’s intrigue spurring her on.

“I thought the truffles added a nice flavour to the foie gras, though its texture took some adjustment. I found the wine to be notably sweet; The Doctor diagnosed me as having a ‘sweet tooth’, though he did not propose a treatment.“ Janeway chuckled again.

“Seven, having a ‘sweet tooth’ is just an expression: it means to love sweet and sugary foods, like fruits and ice cream. It explains the hot chocolate,” she quipped, caressing the heat of her mug.

“I have asked Neelix to supervise my exploration of the ship’s culinary and sommelier database to expand my palate,” Seven explained. “I will keep this diagnosis in mind for future favourable creations.” Her focus became lost to the recurring grin across from her. Seven appreciated the characteristic feature, as well as the Captain’s relaxed, exuberant presence. Seven sipped again at her drink, internally documenting the estimated ten grams of sugar for reference.

“Shouldn’t you be regenerating after consuming synthehol,” Janeway asked, setting her mug on the table.

“The Doctor and I only poured two standard glasses, one of which I consumed. I have concluded that my nanoprobes are adapting to my synthehol ingestion.” Her internal chronometer indicated she was due for regeneration, and though the response was true, she immediately rejected the idea of leaving for the night. The appropriate conclusion: she very much wanted to stay with the Captain.

“What were you reading?” Seven felt pride at her improved conversational style, even more so with Janeway as her witness.

“Oh, just some old poetry.” She turned to grab her book and handed it to Seven, who observed the cover’s artistic typeface. “I’ve always enjoyed the creativity of poetry. I’ve even tried writing it myself, though I find the physical artistry of my Da Vinci program to be much more satisfying.” Seven observed the table of contents, dedication, and titles, glancing the many rhetorical devices in each piece. Her brow furrowed in an attempt to connect emotion to the prose, which she found difficult to not take literally.

“Are these poems about romance,” Seven asked, intrigued; Janeway lowered her gaze in acknowledgment as she quirked another wry smile. She then sat up in her seat, mirroring Seven’s tall, engaged position.

“This neoclassical writer from the 23rd Century compiled romantic poetry dated across almost an Earth millennium.”

“Shakespearean sonnets, 20th Century free-verse, and early computer program codes for interaction... Is romance their only common attribute?”

“Would you like to borrow it? Maybe you could create a schematic analysis for yourself,” Janeway proposed with a playful grin.

“I will report back to you with a _reflection_ ,” she replied and tucked the book beside her in the chair. Seven’s smirk melted into a closed smile under Janeway’s bright eyes; though feeling vulnerable and bashful, she couldn’t imagine tearing her gaze away.

“Speaking of romance,” Seven began, “The Doctor managed to insert himself into a love triangle of sorts while inhabiting my body.”

“Oh?” A look of slight disapproval and amusement crossed Janeway’s expression, her favourable attention increasing Seven’s dopamine levels. “He managed to leave that detail out when I met with him earlier…”

“Lieutenant Jaryn of the Lokirrim Patrol Ship had developed feelings for her Commanding Officer Ranek over their years of travel. _He_ attempted to romance The Doctor as me while The Doctor made multiple conscious efforts to win _her_ affections.”

“That sounds like a long day of socializing. Some days, playing Velocity with you is as social as I get.” Seven’s gaze lowered. She reflected on their last match, 12.2 days ago, in which Seven finally defeated Janeway in a game of five rounds. She noticed a sympathetic rush of blood flow when remembering those feelings of pride and success. Looking up, she found Janeway waiting for her to return, a similar look of reflection in her features.

“I have been proactively socializing with members of the crew since 1900 hours, as well as learning the value of recreational indulgence. Though tiring, I feel that it is meeting certain needs I did not know I had.”

“That’s fantastic, Seven,” Janeway beamed. “Many people struggle to learn the value of self care.”

“A particular starship Captain, perhaps?” Seven quipped, hiding her near snicker with a gulp of hot chocolate, now lukewarm. Janeway rolled her eyes in return, sending a shot of excitement down Seven’s middle. Suddenly, her gaze intensified.

“In earnest, that is no small thing, and it deserves to be celebrated. I’m very proud of you.” Janeway picked up her mug and outstretched it, inviting Seven to do the same. They finished their drinks and placed their mugs on the glass coffee table.

‘No small thing’. Seven toyed with the phrase, considering its emotional weight. She had been told her individuality was ‘no small thing’ — nor, did she feel, was her attachment to the woman sitting across from her.

“Kathryn,” she began softly, “what can you tell me about human romance? Is it common for humans to lack romantic attraction towards the opposite sex?’

“It’s well heard of, though Earth’s history conveniently ignores the fact.” Seven felt her mouth go dry at the characteristic rasp in her voice. "Luckily, being in Delta Quadrant means we’ve created a community of acceptance away from the larger audience.” She sat back on the couch, seemingly exasperated.

‘An emotional response to an objective question,’ Seven analyzed, tilting her head. She noted the advantage to their communicative dynamic as she wordlessly urged her to elaborate.

“I have always been attracted to individuals, regardless of their gender. It’s caused me some grief in the Starfleet Command chain, but it’s also part of the reason for my resilience.” A tender smile caressed her features, and Seven’s expression widened at her increased heart rate. “What’s going through that cybernetic brain of yours?”

“I assumed the intricacies of human relationships went beyond the binary narrative described to me by The Doctor. Seeing as Species 8472 has up to five sexes, perhaps the male-female labeling is an archaic social convention to better assimilate and control individuals.”

“Sounds like you’ve grasped the finer points,” Janeway replied with an arched eyebrow. She was onto her, and for once, Seven didn’t mind sharing her feelings.

“I have also monitored the reintegration of the fusiform gyrus in my brain.”

“Can I get the summary?” Janeway’s charming nature brought another smile to Seven’s features — this time, she felt a heat rise to her cheeks as well.

“Upon assimilation, Borg technology infects the Caudate area of the brain to manipulate facial recognition, aiding to eliminate the potential for interpersonal relationships and emotional familiarity.” Janeway sat up at the direction of conversation, hiding a smile through a casual hand. Seven’s gaze dropped, hoping her Captain could lead the conversation.

“Are you worried because you haven’t fallen in love yet,” Janeway asked. Seven found the gentle guidance comforting, soothing the vulnerability collecting in her throat.

“I have not felt the desire for a romantic relationship with a man, despite many possessing admirable qualities.”

“Well, it’s important not to force yourself into these situations for the sake of efficiency. Have you noticed another _woman_ catch your eye lately?” The idea of entering a romantic relationship with a woman had not occurred to her, but the association of attraction and romance began to fuse beautifully in her mind, not unlike the stabilization of the Omega Molecule. After moments of silence, she noticed Janeway smile knowingly in her direction. 

“I did experience arousal when in close proximity with Commander Jaryn of the Lokirrim Patrol Ship - The Doctor’s anxieties were not entirely his own.” Smirking, she continued dryly: “However, I believe _I_ would have been able to remain calm during our exchanges.”

Janeway threw her head back with a barking laugh, which Seven found more endearing than ever before. Seven allowed this warmth to grow from the inside; ‘This emotional warmth is relevant when I am in her presence,’ she thought. She almost grinned, only to see herself being examined, as if having her mind read — a thought which startled her.

“She must have been special,” Janeway commented with a perked smile.

“Her tactical application of a varied skill sets was impressive, and she _did_ relieve a tense muscle in my upper back effectively. I now recognize its professional and _casual_ application,” she quirked, monitoring an increase in blood flow in both herself and Captain Janeway. The two shared nervous smiles, Kathryn’s grin making Seven dizzy once more; the feeling reminded her of the effects of synthehol. “I am _pleased_ I have you to do discuss this with.”

“I’m always here to listen, Seven.”

“Kathryn…” Seven’s voice shook uncharacteristically, earning Janeway’s strong gaze.

“Yes, love?” The reply sent her mind into a frenzy as her words crumbled away. She took a deep breath.

“Though I _have_ enjoyed socializing this evening, my crewmates have brought my lack of emotional processing to my attention.”

“Now there’s no need to be so hard on yourself, Seven. I’m sure they all have their moments,” Janeway commented, sitting forward on the couch once more.

“I…,” Seven began, quickly becoming frustrated with her inefficient communication. “My emotional regulation is often inconsistent, yet familiar crewmates continue to support my growth by helping me to process my thoughts. Despite my time spent with them, all conversation somehow diverted to you. When we are apart, my thoughts are often with you. I look most forward to our interactions, as they make me feel more human than I can remember.” Seven kept their eyes locked while attempting to regain her relaxed position, knowing it was of no use. Seven monitored her chronometer for exactly three seconds, and pressed on. She stood, only to kneel forwards in front of Janeway, reversing the positions they took onboard The Delta Flyer approximately one Earth-year ago.

“I believe I am in love with you, Kathryn, and regardless of the outcome, you must know I do not anticipate caring for anyone the way you have cared for me.” Seven found Janeway’s wide eyes unnervingly unreadable.

After a moment, Janeway inhaled, then stood silently, offering Seven a hand up as well. They remained a foot apart, still connected at the hand, when Janeway spoke modestly:

“I think you’d get the hang of it, Seven.”

“I believe I am beginning to…”

Seven closed the space between them. Holding Janeway at her waist, the implants at her fingertips buzzed at the contact. She impulsively wrapped her other arm slightly higher on her right side, staring intently into her eyes, asking permission. Janeway’s gaze shifted to the lush lips at eye-level, parting her own in anticipation. One self-assured look from the familiar grey-blue eyes tightened Seven’s grip on the small frame in her arms, bringing their bodies flush together. Their lips met with force — a force which immediately softened at the connection, leaving them to their tender embrace. Janeway’s free arms held Seven at her ribs, moving her thumb across the biosuit’s textured exterior. One feather-light kiss melted into another and, as chaste as it was, Seven’s stream of consciousness became wrapt in her sense of touch. Torn between slowing the moment down and speeding up the sensation, she followed Janeway, whose hand reached up to guide the back of her neck closer.

Only seconds later, the hand on Seven’s neck slid to rest on her chest; though its weight was familiar, Seven’s cortical node frantically recorded its weight and she loosened her grip. Seven’s closed eyes fluttered open as they slowly broke apart. The pair held a fiery gaze, and for the first time, Seven had absolutely no idea what would happen next. Without a probable outcome, she recognized, all she had was the hope that the woman she loved wouldn’t dismiss the strongest feeling in her system.

She broke the adrenaline-fueled silence with a hoarse whisper: “My studies of the first kiss did not provide adequate scenarios for a pre-established relationship such as ours. I have been wanting to do that for some time now,” she confessed, “and I wished to demonstrate my affection for you, despite these _unique_ parameters.”

“Did you plan out this whole night? The drinks, the conversation,” she asked quietly, both smirking and staring incredulously.

“I admit my night has been largely unprecedented, though it did involve a conscious effort to attend to my emotional needs.” Another silence hung in the air. Instead of the anticipated sharp pain of rejection, Seven fought the familiar curtain of indifference which began to fall. ‘My feelings are relevant’, she thought adamantly. ‘I need to know.’

“Do you reciprocate my feelings, Captain?” Janeway looked up, her eyes indicating she was fighting her own silent battle.

“Sweetheart, if we weren’t stranded out here, we’d be rescheduling your regeneration cycle…” Recognizing the innuendo, Seven gasped, standing taller at the impulse to lose composure completely.

“If you hadn’t become stranded we would not have met,” she retorted quickly.

Janeway lips turned upwards, her expression softening as she raised a hand to caress the left side of Seven’s face — passing her temple and grazing her thumb over its implant. She ghosted over Seven’s ear, fingers treading over her golden hair. Seven placed her own hand overtop, bringing the palm to her cheek, reflecting the somber mood in her stare. She carefully turned her head to press her lips to that palm, unknowingly furrowing her brow. “That being said, I don’t expect you to wait around for me to get this ship back to the Alpha Quadrant.”

Seven smiled knowingly. Above all else, she knew, she had to put her most tender trust in the woman she loved. 

“I understand, Captain. Thank you.” Without another word, they disconnected and Seven began to walk towards the exit.

“Oh, Seven!” She whipped around to see the book extended in her direction. “Don’t forget _this_ ,” Janeway added shyly.

‘It will be difficult to forget,’ Seven thought, taking the book and smiling coyly at Janeway, who wore the same expression.

“Thank you. Goodnight, Captain.”

A soft “goodnight, Seven” came from behind her as she strode out the hissing doors, smiling indulgently, like no one was watching.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I wanted my first fic to be as canonical as possible, and I wanted to honour KJ’s stubborn character, being blinded by her dedication to getting the crew home.
> 
> On another note, bittersweet J7 may beat out tooth-rotting sweet J7 imo... Is this sadism?


End file.
